Dearest Friends
by Golden Seeker 91
Summary: A little snip bit into the relationship between McGonagall and Dumbledore


Dumbledore was pacing his office. He couldn't sleep, not after tonight, not after what had happened to Lily, to James and to poor little Harry. Although he had done his all to protect them it hadn't been enough. He sat at his desk and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come and take it all away, all the pain, all the guilt. He leant forward kneading his temples with his long thin fingers trying to disperse the thoughts that pounded against his head making it ache. Slowly his head began to clear and his usual bright blue eyes began to droop. He rested his head on his arms and fell asleep, sleep that brought no escape from either the pain or the guilt.

Dumbledore rarely dreamed, whenever he did they were awful, and this dream was no exception. In the dream he was in Godric's Hollow, watching as the horrible bright green light of the killing curse lit up the village to the accompaniment of Lily's final scream, Dumbledore could see the bright red eyes of Tom Riddle gleaming in the sudden aweful dark silence, his pale hands drawing his wand above his head. He saw them spark as he spoke the final curse, the one meant for Harry. Bright green light filled the village again, this time a massive boom accompanied the light, blowing the house, and Dumbledore into oblivion. When Dumbledore could see again he was in Privet Drive. Baby Harry was on the doorstep of Number 4 sleeping peacefully, the letter Dumbledore had written to the Dursley's clutched in his small hand, his only connection to the world he should have grown up in. Dumbledore watched as the sun rose around Harry, shining on the bright red scar that flashed angrily on his forehead. He saw the door open. Aunt Petunia stepped onto the front step. Dumbledore's heart clenched, he could see Lily reflected in Petunia's face. He saw he looked down at the baby on the step before her and for a moment her hard face slackened, she dropped to her knees and cradled the baby, gently easing the letter from his hand so as not to wake him. She read the letter, her hands shaking the further she read, she hugged Harry close to her, her eyes filling with tears and she looked at him. He opened his eyes then, his eyes, a mirror of Lily's, gazed up at Petunia and taking a deep breath to steady herself she went inside. Dumbledore watched as Harry went into the house in the arms of his mother's sister. He silently prayed that he would be okay. Just then the boy opened his eyes again, and Dumbledore's heart stopped. The bright green eyes that had been there were gone, now they shone back at him, a bright, evil red. A mirror of Voldemort's.

Dumbledore jumped awake, the red eyes still flashing before him in the dim light of his office. He sucked in lungful's of air and pushed his half-moon glasses back onto his nose with shaking fingers. A hand came to steady his, a hand so pale in the dimness that he flinched, remembering Tom Riddles pale hands, the hand removed itself from his and rested on his shoulder.

"Albus?" said a soft voice.

Slowly his breathing returned to normal, his heart rate settling. His headache started up again thrumming against his head whenever he felt his blood rush in his ears. He recognised the voice, and allowed himself to be caught up in the pain and guilt and let some of it out. He tilted his head sideways so it rested on the hand on his shoulder. It tightened reassuringly.

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a minute, Professor Dippet said you were shouting."

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"Did you dream?"

Dumbledore sat up, resting his aching head on his arms, leaning his elbows on his desk, he nodded weekly.

Professor McGonagall took her hand from Dumbledore's shoulder and sat opposite him gently taking his wrists in her hands.

"What did you dream this time?"

Dumbledore told her about the dream, his voice cracking and betraying his true age. Looking at him now, his long white hair and beard shining in the dim candlelight she could almost see him get older, his hands growing thinner, the light disappearing from his eyes. McGonagall's stomach fluttered. Very rarely had she seen Dumbledore so sad. He took a deep breath.

"What have I done Minerva?"

"Your best, as always."

Dumbledore laughed softly, bitterly.

"My best, yes, but it never seems to be good enough. Whenever I do my best bad things always happen."

"How so?"

"I befriended Grindelwald, he turned dark. I gave Tom Riddle a chance, he turned dark, and now Lily and James and so many others are dead, and it's my fault. If I hadn't have gone to him all of this, the Order, the Death eaters, none of this would have happened."

"When you befriended Grindelwald you had no idea what he would become. You showed him kindness and compassion, something he would not have received elsewhere, similarly for Tom Riddle. You could not have known how who he would grow up to be but you made an extraordinary difference in that boy's life. He had grown up not knowing anything of love, of family, of friendship. You brought him into our world and showed him all those things. Without them I believe he would have been one hundred times worse."

Dumbledore drew in a long breath and stood beginning his pacing again.

"It's just difficult, whenever I try to help someone they end up hurting themselves or others. I feel like I should just say here, away from everyone, that way no one can be hurt."

Minerva rose to her feet, walking around the desk taking his shoulders and stopping his progress across the room.

"We need to Albus, Hogwarts needs you, all those children who pass through those doors need you. James and Lily, they need you, they need to you look after their son and help him when he passes though those doors. I need you because you are my dearest friend."

Dumbledore dipped his head, all the energy seemed to drain out of him. McGonagall reached into her pocket drawing out a packet of sweets. She took one, offering it to Dumbledore.

A smile flickered on his lips, his eyes shone a little brighter. He took the offered sweet, the sherbet lemon glistening in the candlelight. He popped it into his mouth and sat back down in his desk chair.

McGonagall looked sideways at him before turning to leave.

"You know where I will be if you need me."

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes closed, but grabbed Minerva's hand as she passed. When she turned his eyes were open, gleaming with the old energy.

"Thank you, for many things. Thank you, for being my dearest friend."

Minerva gave her friend a rare smile, squeezing his hand once, before stepping out of the room, leaving him to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
